


Cold Nights

by kazosa



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, supernatural fan fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-15 07:39:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15408204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kazosa/pseuds/kazosa
Summary: Dean and the reader go on a hunt and Dean takes their cover a little too seriously. ...Or is it just enough?





	Cold Nights

    Dean wasn’t doing much to quell his amusement. You were covered, head to toe, in monster. To make matters worse, you were frozen. It was so cold outside, the monster splatter had frozen in place on your clothes and hair. You would have to burn everything.

    To Dean’s credit, he’d probably saved your life. He’d shot the monster on sight, effectively exploding the thing. With it being up in the rafters, what he hadn’t planned on was you chasing another monster, right under it, just as he shot. The mess had splashed down like one of those buckets at a kiddie water park. As if that weren’t bad enough, Dean tracked the other monster and shot it, as well. You couldn’t stop yourself, you slid through the muck, fell, and got completely covered.

    If it had been him in your situation, you were sure you would have laughed, too. The penguin walk you’d had to do was more than anyone could take, if you were being honest. Hell, you might have even laughed at yourself, if only you hadn’t gotten monster in your mouth… Ingesting monster was at the very bottom of your to-do list, it tasted like dirty socks and rust. Dean would need to check you for cuts and bites. Not an unpleasant thought, but you were going to need a shower first, for about 4 hours.

    “I **_am_** sorry,” he said. “You know, you’re not really a hunter ‘til you’ve been slimed by a monster.”

    “Then I must be the goddess of hunters,” you said looking at the disgusting mess. “Put your foot down, Winchester, I’m starting to smell.”

    With a grin, he answered, “You got it.”

[Originally posted by spn-spam](https://tmblr.co/Z8SaEm2TAGyFj)

    When you’d rolled into town a few days ago, you’d convinced Dean to stop at the local gas station which doubled as the town grocery store, barber, and rental office. He pulled into the lot and parked. Getting to the entrance, Dean held the door for you as you both bustled in out of the cold. You and Dean were the only customers in the building. A man was behind a tall counter that was both a display case and the checkout for the shop.

    “I guess we’re talking to this guy,” Dean whispered to you.

    As you got close to the counter, the old man lit up and greeted you both warmly. It tickled you to no end that his name was Floyd and he was more than happy to help you out. You browsed some of the clothing racks a few feet away while Dean talked to him. Floyd told Dean he had just the place for the two of you.

    “Now, sweetheart,” he tipped his head down slightly, “how ‘bout you do some grocery shopping while your fiancé and I get paperwork settled. Storms comin’.”

    You raised an eyebrow at Dean.

    “Just one minute, Floyd, gotta talk to the little lady,” Dean said, putting his hand on your lower back and moving you away from the counter.

    Dean kept you close, so Floyd wouldn’t get too suspicious. Tucked into his side, you knew to keep your mouth shut and to play along. Last thing you needed was to draw unwanted attention from the locals. You didn’t hate how close he held you, even if he was the farthest thing from a fiancé to you.

    “See if they got some of those snack cakes I like and something normal like frozen burger patties, cheese whiz and pork rinds,” he said to your temple.

    “Fiancé?” you whispered, wrapping your arm around his waist, ignoring his disgusting, “normal” grocery list for the moment.

    “Discount,” he said with a grin, kissing your temple and letting you go. “Oh, and bacon!” he said, and as he turned away, he gave your ass a healthy smack.

    Stunned, you found a small shopping cart and started picking things out for at least a 3 day stay. The cooler had been stocked with the usual road food and wouldn’t really last long if you and Dean got stuck in the boonies of Minnesota. You did the best you could with what the small store had and managed to plan for 3 days of meals.

 

    The storm had held out until the night you and Dean finally found the monsters and eradicated their nest. The snow wasn’t falling yet, but with the way the wind had frozen your clothes, it was coming, and it was going to be nasty. Dean hauled ass through the small town and out to where the cabin was situated near the shore of one of Minnesota’s 10,000 lakes.

    While the cabin had it’s 1950s charm, that was about all it had. There were exactly two rooms in the cabin and almost everything was original to the structure. Somewhere in the 70s, the appliances had been updated, so you wouldn’t have to cook on a wood stove, and the refrigerator would hold your groceries easily. The only source of heat was the fireplace that took up a substantial portion of one wall. The furnishings were reasonably comfortable and clean considering their advanced age. Truly a “Honeymoon Cabin,” there was one, queen-sized bed.

 

    The first night, you were so exhausted from the long day of driving, it didn’t take much for you to fall asleep. When you went to bed, Dean was still reading the local newspapers and trying to get Wi-Fi hotspot going. In the morning, when you woke, Dean was lying in bed next to you, barely on his side of the bed. Lying on your side, his head was turned toward you. It wasn’t the first time you’d had to share a bed with him, but it had only been because Sam had refused to share with Dean. That and he was huge and barely fit on the bed by himself.

    That first morning, something changed between you and Dean. It was no longer sharing out of necessity. You wanted him there. Waking up with him had been…nice, intimate in a way it hadn’t been before. The cabin had been cold and his close proximity had kept you warm.

   You hadn’t even realized that you had feelings for Dean until then and you didn’t know what to do. It was like a spotlight had been pointed at him. He kept on with the fiancé bit and you played along liking the whole game a little bit more than you thought you would. You’d always gotten along with Dean really well, and most of the time, you knew how he would react to things, which made working with him easy and effective. People in town warmed to the two of you and you frequently caught glimpses of approval from the locals.

 

    You looked over at Dean, still remarkably clean after your own messy ordeal and wanted to cry. It was going to take the last of your travel shampoo to get your hair clean and he was sitting there oblivious to your distress, or so you thought.

    “You can use mine,” he said casually. Turning to him, you knew your confusion must have been on your face. “Shampoo,” he mimed scrubbing his head with his free hand, “if you need it.”

    He knew you better than you thought he did.

    “What about you?” you asked. “What if you need it?”

    “Don’t worry about it. I stole it from Sam anyway,” he grinned, hoping to make you smile.

    His eyes kept flashing to you, a little smile on his face, waiting for a response from you. Despite your discomfort, you couldn’t help but smile, too. Sam would be so mad when he found out, but you knew your hair would look gorgeous after. Made you wonder why Dean had swiped it though…

    “Okay,” you said, “thanks.”

    “That’s my girl,” he said continuing to the cabin.

[Originally posted by whoeveryoulovethemost](https://tmblr.co/ZHO4Wo28Bd-oM)

 

    The next day, the two of you had spent the day talking to the locals about the strange mauling deaths that had happened in their area. Dean was taking full advantage of your new engaged status and was unusually affectionate with you. He almost made a show of taking you to all of the small shops along the short main street, holding hands with you, leaning down to say funny things in your ear, making you feel like you were his for real. You could get used to that kind of Dean. When you looked up at him, he flashed that charming smile of his, his green eyes shining in the bright sun, you finally saw what other women saw in him, rather than just a guy with whom you hunted.

    Dean had a way of questioning people that sounded like conversation rather than a cop or a nosy busy-body. After canvasing the shops, it turned out Floyd had the best lead and directed you to a spot to look for your monster. He also had a hot tip on where to go for dinner.

    “You kids should go to my wife, Millie’s. She has the best food in town, just like home cookin’,” Floyd suggested.

    You rather liked the old guy. He wore corduroy pants with suspenders and a heavy wool shirt with a white t-shirt peeking out of the collar. That first day, he told you he didn’t condone wearing hats inside, but he wore his flap cap because he was nearly bald. He looked much the same when he gave you the recommendation for his wife’s establishment.

    The display case that doubled as the check out counter had some pretty jewelry inside. You had both arms on it to look down into the case. Dean was leaning on the counter with you and had his other arm around you.

    “Sounds like we have our dinner plans for tonight, honey,” Dean said with his charming tone, and your belly did an odd little flutter.

    “I can’t wait to try it!” you said with sincerity and looked up at Dean. What was that look you saw in his eyes, so thinly veiled?

    Dinner was normal enough. You and Dean had been friends for a few years, hunting together almost as long, animated and engaging conversation was not difficult. It almost felt like a real date. You were still watching the locals for anything unusual and you knew Dean was doing the same. To end the meal, Dean topped off with a slice of banana cream pie and you chose a piece of warm peach cobbler that came with a scoop of ice cream.

    The weather was only getting colder by the second night. You watched as Dean built up the fire, admiring the way his back looked under his shirt. Your imagination had taken you away and you didn’t hear Dean talking to you.

    “You alright there, (Y|N)?” he chuckled, standing up, brushing his hands off.

    Snapping out of your daydream, “I’m sorry, did you ask me a question?”

    He laughed at your dazed look, “Sammy downloaded some movies, want to watch one?”

    You could only imagine what kind of movies Sam chose, but with no other form of entertainment, you’d watch just about anything.

    “Ah, sure,” you agreed. There wasn’t much for furniture in the small cabin and only one small couch and a coffee table made up the entirety of the living room. Dean was already getting the laptop set up on the coffee table and you sat on one end of the couch. When Dean took his spot, he gave you a look that said, “what are you doing over there?” and pointed at the open space next to him.

    “C’mon, how are you going to see from over there? We’re just watching a movie, I think you’ll be safe,” he teased.

    It started out as you sitting next to him. You didn’t even think about it when he put his arm on the back of the couch, tipping you toward him. You just adjusted in your spot and leaned on his chest. It was only later, when you were lying in bed that you realized what he’d done. Was Dean making the moves on you, or was he just being considerate?

    On the morning of your hunt, you woke up, to a heavy arm draped over your body, the solid comfort of Dean sleeping behind you. THAT had definitely never happened before. Not wanting the moment to end, you laid there and enjoyed it for a few moments, but mother nature came calling before he woke up. Carefully, you tried to slip out from under his arm, but he roused and pulled you back to him. It was cold in the cabin and Dean was so warm.

    “Don’t go yet,” he mumbled drowsily.

    “That may become an issue soon if you don’t let me go,” you whispered.

    Finally opening his eyes, he looked at you and just before he let you go, the tiniest of smiles touched his lips.

    “Sorry,” he said.

    Reluctantly, you slipped away and went straight to the bathroom then took a cold shower.

 

[Originally posted by corvus-s](https://tmblr.co/Z4NXau2HVw5kM)

   Any thawing you did while inside the Impala refroze almost as soon as you got out of the car. Dean parked right by the cabin door and was out of the car right behind you. If you hadn’t run inside so quickly, you might have heard him laughing at you.

    You quickly grabbed your pajamas and clean underwear before running to the bathroom. All you could think about was getting out of those clothes as soon as possible, not giving Dean’s borrowed shampoo a second thought. Being brave, you let the chilly water rinse over you and your hair for as long as you could stand it, slowly inching the hot water up to luke warm. By the time you’d gotten through your second washing, you were out of shampoo.

    Moving, finally, to hot water and soap, lots of soap, you washed your body. The stinging sensation on your back and leg did little to make you feel better about the night’s events. You were trying to get a look at a stinging spot on your lower back when Dean knocked at the door.

    Having been in the cabin a few days, he knew the shower curtain was opaque and wouldn’t embarrass you too badly when he invited himself in. The familiarity between the two of you was borderline boyfriend/girlfriend as it was. When hunting with the two brothers, there was little room for modesty. Dean put Sam’s shampoo on the edge of the tub then sat on the closed lid of the toilet. You suddenly became very aware of how little coverage there was between the two of you.

    “Good hunt today,” he said over the sound of the shower. “I like this place. It’s kinda…homey. How are you doing in there, saving me any hot water?”

    The tiniest circle of Sam’s shampoo had your hair in a luxurious lather. Rinsing, you felt surprisingly tired and sore. The fall hadn’t just hurt your pride.

    “I gotta admit, I really love Floyd and Millie,” you said turning off the water. “There’s a little hot water left.” You snaked a hand out to grab a towel off the rack above the toilet. Though your shower had been warm, the cabin was still very cold and was already making you chilly. You dried off as quickly as you could and stepped out of the shower.

    “Anything I need to take a look at?” he asked.

    “Did you start a fire? It’s freezing in here,” you told him.

    “Yeah,” he said. “And you didn’t answer my question.”

    “It’ll keep ‘til you’re done, just get out so I can get dressed,” you shot back.

    Dean gave you a good up and down look before stepping out of the room. Why was your heart racing? What was going on with you and him? Had you been so clueless that you didn’t notice all this time? It was driving you crazy! And why did he have Sam’s shampoo!? He was playing the doting fiancé awfully well. You got dressed quickly and wrapped your hair up in the towel and left the room.

    Dean was stoking the fire and had turned on the one lamp that was in the cabin. He made sure it was roaring for you. As you got closer, he saw you coming and stood up.

    “Let’s see,” he said.

    “No way, shower first. You’re not touching me with dirty hands. I’m not getting an infection because you can’t be bothered to get clean first,” you admonished.

    “(Y|N), you hit pretty hard. Let me look,” he pleaded.

    “I didn’t say no to checking. Shower,” you pointed to the bathroom.

[Originally posted by xmas-wonderland](https://tmblr.co/Z0I6yu2PG-6sc)

    You sat on the coffee table and warmed up in front of the now roaring fire. After a few minutes passed, you took the towel off your hair. You grabbed your brush and sat down near the hearth and brushed out your hair, helping it to dry faster.

    It seemed like forever before Dean came out of the bathroom. He left the door open and turned off the light inside. You were done drying your hair and were enjoying the feel of the fire when he sat down on the floor next to you.

    “Hey,” you acknowledged his presence without opening your eyes.

    He nudged your shoulder with his.

    “Hey,” he answered.

    The smell of Sam’s shampoo reached you as well as the smell of mint and AXE. Your “fiancé” had taken time to really get cleaned up. With your arms wrapped around your drawn-up knees, you rolled your head to look at him through the slits in your eyes. You’d never allowed yourself to entertain any thoughts on trying to take things further than friendship with Dean. The work was more important. Plus, having seen some of the women he took up with, it just emphasized, you were not his type. Besides, when hunters got together, it just ended in disaster, usually in heartbreak with either one or both dead.

    There was no denying something had shifted between the two of you. He no longer looked like a friend to you. Dean Winchester was a handsome man and over the last few days, had made an effort to be affectionate to you. Sure, a lot of it was for show, but more of it was for no one but you…

    You looked at him, sitting much the way you were. The fire light warmed his features, giving him a soft look. He smelled good, his hair was fluffy, and he was looking at you in such a way that it sent a tingle through your body. After noticing a shiny spot on his arm, you reached out, putting your palm on it and rubbed away the moisture, it was lotion. You drew your hand back and Dean blinked slowly.

    “You put lotion on? It smells good,” you admitted.

    “Thought I’d give it a shot,” he said quietly.

    Your eyes traveled up to his fluffy hair and you noticed something stuck there. Sitting up, you reached out to the spot above and behind his ear. Dean tipped away briefly giving you a questioning look.

    “Don’t move,” you told him. Getting on your knees to get a better look, you pulled a piece of monster out of his hair that had been reluctant to give way.

    “Ow,” he whispered when you pulled out a few hairs.

    “There’s my tough guy,” you teased and threw the bone chunk into the fire where it sizzled and popped in the heat. Looking back at him, you smoothed his hair. He didn’t pull away, if anything, he leaned into your touch.

    “What is going on between us?” you couldn’t take it anymore.

    He shrugged, noncommittally.

    “Same as always. Just playing a part,” he said, looking away.

    You narrowed your eyes at him. “No… this is different. YOU’RE different. You’ve never played the fiancé card before, not to mention, all the PDAs, hand holding. I woke up with your arm around me and when I tried to get up, you pulled me back to you. AND you’re still doing it and there’s no one around but me. So, I ask again, what is going on between us?”

    He didn’t want to say it. It would make it real. Whenever he said something important out loud, it became real, and then it could be something that could be snatched away. (Y|N) was important to him and the last thing he wanted to do was lose her. Knowing he’d put it off too long as it was, he felt that maybe it was the best time to tell her.

    “I got tired,” he said, resigned to finally putting words to it. “Don’t you ever get tired?”

    “Tired of what?”

    “Tired of pretending that I don’t care. Tired of pretending that it doesn’t bother me when you spend the night with someone else. I don’t blame you for it, I just wanted you to be with me,” he admitted.

    “I’m with you all the time, though, Dean,” unsure of what he was telling you.

    “When this case came along, and Sam was away helping Garth, it seemed perfect. Just you and me, no Sam around to come in… It just worked out that, for a little while, I could be more than just your friend,” he explained. “It was kinda fun.”

    He never ceased to amaze you. Of all the things he could have said, you hadn’t really expected that. Of the two brothers, Dean was the one, oddly enough, who was the most domesticated. Not that Sam wasn’t capable of a meaningful relationship, it was just that Dean always seemed to be searching for something more than the life of a hunter.

    “I thought I wasn’t your type,” you told him. “All the women I saw you go with, I just assumed that you weren’t ready for anything more than a fling.”

    He nodded. The life of a hunter was never easy, but it could be shared. If there was anyone who would understand, it was (Y|N). He trusted her with his life and she him. He hadn’t wanted anything more than a fling with those women because who he wanted was (Y|N).

    “I just wanted you,” his voice was clear and sincere. “I was having a dream this morning. You’d taken me to the bar, we had a few drinks, and you took me home and we… It seemed real, so when I woke up with you, I didn’t realize the dream stopped.”

    “For the record,” you began, “I didn’t want to get out of bed. You… you felt really nice. Your warm body… your arm draped over me… it’s been a while since I felt that safe.”

    “Safe, huh?”

    “Sometimes, you’re a real idiot,” you got up off the floor and went over to the bed, wincing a little as you moved.

    Gingerly, you pulled back the covers and noted that Dean was banking the fire. It was going to be a brutally cold night, again. The banked fire would provide heat for the rest of the night, but it would still be really cold inside the cabin.

    “What?!” Dean asked, perturbed. He’d poured out his heart and gets called an idiot?

    “You don’t get it. All women ever want is to know that the man they love has their back, makes them feel safe and loved back,” you said. “You made me feel safe and loved, Dean. I’m not saying I’m in love with you, but that felt really good.”

    “Let me take a look at your back,” he said, walking over to you.

    He knew you were right. He’d tried to have a normal life once and it had ended badly. (Y|N) was fully a hunter, living in the life and she still felt the way she did?

    “I’m fine,” you grumbled trying to climb onto the high mattress. It was stupid that the bed was up so high. Why had Floyd and Millie even put the ridiculous bed in there? There was even a step, for crying out loud. The stiffness from your injury had set in and lifting your knee high enough to get on the bed was not an option.

    “Let me look,” he said again.

    Resigning to him, you grabbed the hem of your shirt and lifted, exposing your bare back to him.

    His hands were surprisingly warm in the already chilly cabin. Not finding anything that would kill you, he put his hands on your hips and turned you around to face him, inches from your body.

    “What’s the prognosis,” you asked, not daring to meet his gaze.

    “A deep bruise and road rash,” he said, making you look him in the eyes. “I forget you have so many tattoos. Usually only see that little one on the small of your back.”

    Ignoring him, you looked for the stupid step so you could get in the bed. Instead, he got in your way, making you listen to him.

    “Look, I know I’m not perfect. I make mistakes. I don’t always know what the right answer is, but I do know one thing. If you let me, I will try hard, every single day, to make you feel like you are safe and loved,” he said. “Because I love you, (Y|N).”

    You stopped your search and stood up to look directly at him. Always knowing when Dean was lying, you looked into his eyes and all you saw was him pleading with you to believe him. Never in your wildest dreams would you have ever thought you’d hear those words out of his mouth and certainly not directed at you.

    “Say something,” his voice barely more than a whisper.

    You put your hand on his chest and looked up at him. Running your hand up around his neck, you pulled his mouth down to yours, finally knowing what his lips felt like on yours. You kissed him deeply and he kissed you back, clutching you to him like you might vanish in the cold wind outside. His hand went down your back slowly, cupping your ass and giving it a squeeze before going lower. Grasping your thigh, he pulled your leg up over his waist. Your arms going around his shoulders, he lifted you off the floor and put you on the bed.

    “No more cold nights. No more not telling the other…anything.”

    Dean smiled and followed you onto the bed, his lips finding yours again, he kissed you like the world might end.

   In the morning, light came streaming through the window near the cabin door. The panes were frosted over, only slightly muting the light. The heavy weight of Dean’s arm laid over your waist. He was lying on his stomach, head turned toward you. He looked like a boy with his long lashes resting on his cheeks. He seemed to be so relaxed, and … content.

    It was too cold in the cabin to sleep without clothes on, which made slipping out of bed a little easier. Dean stirred at your absence, but didn’t fully wake. You pulled on your socks and limped to the kitchenette. Your breath hung like a sad fog and you reached to turn on all of the electric burners and the oven. The cupboards were all open to let the heat in to the pipes. When you looked, you didn’t see any points of worry and gingerly made your way to the fireplace.

    Grabbing the ash bucket, you scooped out what had fallen under the rack and hoped you weren’t messing it up. You didn’t know what you were doing, but when you were done, you hadn’t started any extra fires and called it a win. Stoking the smoldering embers, you finally got a flame to rise and soon, you were able to add extra logs and the fire was going strong again.

    As you stood up from the fire, you realized just how sore you really were. Whether it was from taking the hard fall in the monster goop, or Dean, you couldn’t be sure. You smiled at the memory of the night before, the feel of his body, on you…in you, the sounds he made as he loved you… the look on his face when you were on top…there had been a lot to smile about.

    Clearing the space in front of the fire. You did some of your favorite yoga poses to help stretch out your achy muscles. It had been a good idea, you could feel your muscles releasing their pull.

    “What’s that one called?”

    Startled, you shifted your pose to the other leg.

    “Warrior,” you said calmly.

    “Mmm,” he acknowledged. “I liked that one when you had your feet spread apart and touched the floor.”

    You had to laugh. Of course, he’d been watching you. That pose had been pointed away from him and your shirt had fallen over your head, exposing you to him.

    “Perv,” you chuckled. “How long have you been watching?”

    “Long enough to know I should be thanking the monks that came up with that,” he said.

    Feeling better and happy he was awake, your limp was barely noticeable as you walked and climbed onto the bed. You looked down at him with his arm cocked behind his head. He looked incredibly handsome and happy. Leaning forward, he met you in the middle and kissed your swollen lips, certain you would never get tired of kissing him.

    “What do we do when we go home? How are we going to tell Sam?” you asked.

    “Maybe we can just thank Sam,” he said, grinning.

    “For what?”

    He ran his hand through his hair, “For the shampoo, that was some good stuff. No wonder he hides it. Plus, I’ll tell him it helped me enhance the handsome.”

    You leaned down to kiss him again, “I’m gonna start breakfast.”

    The burners were glowing orange and you knew you could make quick work of it.

    “Man, I hate to see you go…” he didn’t finish the rest of the saying. “Hey, we have enough bacon? I love bacon.”

    Dean got out of bed and followed you to the kitchen, goosebumps rising on his skin. He stepped up behind you and wrapped his arms around you as you cracked eggs into a bowl.

    “I could really get used to this,” he said, his lips on your neck.

    “Well, you opened this can of awesome, now you’re stuck with me,” you told him.

    “Speaking of home,” he said looking toward the window and the frost that was starting to melt. Reluctantly, he let you go and went to the window to look outside. “How do you feel about staying one more night?”

    The bacon sizzled in the frying pan, “I wouldn’t hate it, why?”

    “We’re snowed in,” he said, coming back to you.

    “Oh, darn.”


End file.
